Welcome to Motor City Burning: World of Darkness online role playing game. Due to the graphic, predatory nature of the violence and adult activities Kindred, Hunters, and the Created take part in, we require all players to be 18 years of age or older. If you are at least 18 and would like to play with us, hit the "Register" key and come on in!

Storyteller: Suddenly the world seemed to grow heavy. Weary. Something latched onto the tail of Dave's dream, something deep, powerful and primal. Even as he opens his eyes and sees Dr. Hollandale and the hotel room, something *pulls at him*. His eyes slide shut. Doctor Hollandale wavers next, teetering before collapsing on the hotel floor, asleep. In the hall way, the professor and Liam both blink blearily. They stare at Chris for a moment, before toppling over onto the ground, asleep..

Storyteller: As Chris stares at the Professor and Liam, they *vanish* right before his eyes. In the next room, the same occurs to Dave and Dr. Hollandale..

Chris never had time to answer Liam's question and as he turns around, it apparently was already too late....

Professor Stevens, Liam, Dave, Dr Hollandale: As you open your eyes, you stare up at a dingy gren cieling. Only as you straighten, you realize that it isn't the cieling at all. *It's the sky*. Liam and the Professor suddenly recognize aspects from thier 'dreams'. The bleached buildings. The sand at thier feet. They are lying at the foot of a large, tall wooden gate. "Oy, you!" A man shouts. "Get out of the way!".

The Professor scrambled to his feet. "What the..." He looked around, a worried expression on his face..

Storyteller: As the Professor stood, he noticed a lage, bony man on a wagon. A literal wagon, being pulled by a pair of bored looking donkeys. "Move it, you!" He shouts, brandishing a long, whippy stick at you..

The Professor looked down to see if the laptop he had been carrying had come with him, or whether it was still back in the hotel with Chris..

The laptop was gone.... Liam tries to get out of the way..

Dave glances about the place for his bag..

Chris decides to give Amber another call..

The Professor moved out of the way as well, not liking the fact that two people in sight are armed. Hopefully his cane was back at the hotel lying next to his laptop....

Storyteller: You stand at the foot of a tall wooden gate that was at least fifteen feet tall. You spot a man at the top, peering out over the gate towards the exterior of the city, he has a rile. A sentry? Gone are the paved streets and numerous buildings and offices. The city itself seems small, squashed. You are staring at a row of merchant booths, at least sixteen wide and three deep. You can hear haggling going on within. Past the merchants, you spy a barricade that seems to separate this entrance area from the rest of the city. You can not spy any openings in the barricade.*****.

Dave finds his bag at his feet...."What..?" Doctor Hollandale wonders, glancing about. "Did.... you say something about a vision, Professor?".

"Yes... I'm afraid somehow we've ended up in the place where Chris went to and I saw..." Samuel replied uneasily..

AeonThePhoenix : "Raiders from the Wasteland." the Professor murmured uneasily..

The younger man steps down from the small step, the older man remains where he stands. The younger man weaves through a handful of people bustling towards the marketplace. He pauses in front of you. "Good day! new in town?".

"Yeah." said Liam as he looked around suspiciously..

"Very new in town and hoping the day improves." The Professor responded in a friendly tone.."Well, this could be your lucky day. Bookman is hoping to employ you to help take some wares to market and help him in the Book Place.".

"We'd be more than happy to help." The Professor responded instantly. Bookman... the name had been mentioned in his vision... whether as a guide or a warning however was unknown....

The doctor glances sharply at the Professor but smiles wanly at the stranger..

Storyteller: "Make way!" Someone shouts by the gate. Turning, you see two Jeeps arrive. Four men readily exit the first, but move to carry two injured men out of the second vehicle. "Somethings moving in the Wasteland!" They shout. "Ons econd hand, you should go with him." Dr. Hollandale says. "I should help the wounded. I'll look for you there in that building..."..

"I will be." She assures you. "Likely won't take very long!" Hearing your acceptance, the man leads you towards the brick building. Several of teh windows have been boarded up. "Hello." The older man greets. "I'm Weyland 'Bookman'. Come on in and I'll show you what is to be done..." He turns and enters the brick building. Empty shelves line the large room. The Professor feels memory prick at his brain..

[12:56:26] cobrawax : Liam shrugs and follows the man into the brick building.

[12:59:05] AeonThePhoenix : "Deja vu." The Professor said, hoping his two colleagues would get the message that he'd seen this place in his vision.

[13:01:58] Seryna : "It will be just a moment." The older man states, hobbling beyond a desk covered with old tomes. "I'll bring out what needs to be taken over...explain... Make yourself comfy..." The man moves out of sight, murmering to himself.

[13:03:59] Seryna : [give you a minute to talk]

[13:08:45] cobrawax : Liam takes a look at some of the books.

[13:09:47] Seryna : All of the books appear to be old. You can not find a recently printed book. The topics on the desk were about early explorers- and map making.

The Professor examined the maps to see if he could recognize any places on it

Checking the first page, the Professor could see that this book was printed in 1990. The maps were of the *United States*. Several pages had been colored over. 'Blessed sacked St. Louis'. Was on one page. "California taken by Flesh Raiders' was on another. Flipping through it, it seemed that most of the states had notes of violence and beasts.The man calls out from the next room, still out of sight. "Sorry about the wait... I seem to have misplaced some of my papers. I had some helpers last week and they got me too organized for my own good!"

"No rush on our accounts sir." The Professor answered back politely, wondering where or possibly when the hell they'd all been transported to.

"There we go." The older man replies, returning with a basket in his arms. Setting it on the crowded desk, he begins to leaf through it. You spot old style paper- the sort made from presses and such before printing really took off.

As he rummaged, a dog earred Mead notebook tumbled out of the basket and fell upon the floor. The man didn't seem to notice as he continued to rummage in the basket, now stacking the old style papers into neat, even piles.

Glancing at the notebook, you see that it is written in a blue ink pen. Some of the handwriting is well formed and easy, some cramped and hurried.

My name is Susan. I live at 4565 Chestnut Ave. in Detroit. I had just moved in three days ago. I was trying to find my friend Doug when all of this began. I'm documenting this as though it's just another hunt, but to be honest, I'm not sure if we're hunting or just desperately trying to get back home.

Doug had been AWOL for about three days when we checked out his hotel room. We found stuff that looked like he was in the middle of a hunt- this girl Emma had vanished, apparently from some thing that walked through a door at Shy's Bar and walked into a world of thorns. I was looking at Doug's journal- some scary pictures of Arizona, it looked like. But there were these odd grey creatures that didn't look right. I was reading about how Doug had lifted this packet off of a vampire that had tried to jump him when I heard it. A thump.

I looked down and Donnie and Matt were on the floor, unconscious. I leaned over to wake them when my hand passed through them- and they just vanished. Gone! I felt around in case they were invisible, but they were really just gone. I started to feel really sleepy, so I grabbed Doug's journal and took off.

I made it to my place before I passed out. Thankfully, I stayed here. I woke up about an hour later and started going through Doug's journal. Nothing really relevant about -ol' Detroit- mostly about Emma's cell. Some letters between her and a contact, a smarter Hunter from the looks of it. Most of these letters are just bits and pieces, but I guess that Emma's cell were investigating Shy's Bar.

There was a door that no one ever came through- but that some guy -Robert “Bob” Nikolaidis-would walk through- change- and then not come back out. He vanished for like a week while they set up surveillance. The cell got excited when he came out- I guess half of them followed him while Susan went in to take readings by the door. When she got into the car to head towards where the cell was- as the cell had told her they were at the park- her cell phone call ended and she heard on the news that there had been fatalities. The letter isn't very clear, but it sounds like her friends were executed. She assumes it was this Nikolaidis. The guy she's writing to sounds smart, wish there were some full letters here. Need to find her addy, see if we can find some stuff at her place.

Back to our situation, Doug is pretty sure that we're not in the same place that Nikolaidis went to at the bar. For one, the sky is green here and they never saw that. Two, there's no thorn bushes around like at the door of the bar.Doug's been here for three days straight. He's gathered that its some post apoc. place. The year is 2051. The people are deathly afraid of 'the Paola - Paulda? Paol - something' virus, the virus that wiped out half the planet's population about fifty years ago. The scary thing is, Doug thinks thats around *our* time, 2010. People here don't mark years very well any more, so its' hard to be specific. Talk to Weyland 'Bookman'. He's like the town's librarian, educator and academic researcher all in one. He doesn't know about where we came from, but he did tell us about the Virus and showed us the timeline. He'll also pay you to make parchment and run his booth in town. *Earning credit is very important*. We had to buy new clothes for the desert, water, and lodging at the tents.

Liam goes over to the Professor. "This notebook says we're forty years in the future and half the population has been wiped out with a virus." he whispers. Then goes over to Mr. Bookman. "Excuse me, do you remember a man named Doug?"

"Doug? Oh yeah, travels with a group with a nice girl, Susan. She was well read." The man gestured to the small stack of papers that he has now organized and tied with bits of string while you were reading.

Liam was tempted to lie to the man, but from what he'd read, he figured he could trust him. "Not really, though we did come here from the same city and I believe we have a lot in common. We seem to be in a similar situation. Do you know where we could find them? "

"Oh, they left town about three days ago." Bookman seemed regretful about that. "They were lovely company. Most folks around here are a rude, illiterate bunch that gets whipped up into a frenzy over the littlest things. Just the other night, a group of boys were going off at the mouth that a demon had stolen into town. " He shook his head. "Just about strung up an 'accused demon worshiper' before I could point out that the man was simply drunk."

"Yes, I do recall advising them on where to go." He smiled a bit at the memory. "They had this curious piece of technology around Susan's neck, sort of like a compass. It said 'go north' so I told them about the cities to the north. Pitt is the largest city of note, so they made arrangements to head there. I let them look at my map a bit. Susan made little notes in her curious little book with its odd, white paper."

Scanning the first few pages of cramped writing revealed no mentions of Pit. A few moments later, you fin a mention on the last page...

We've been here for three days now. Doug and I remain during the nights while Donnie and Matt go back to Detroit while they sleep. They can't find our sleeping bodies. We've decided it's too dangerous to stay in Ol' Detroit. What if Matt and Donnie don't come back and Doug and I are stranded here?

We're going to head to Pitt in the morning. We spent nearly all of our money on supplies and on hiring Dimak as a guide to Pitt. Bookman is sad to see us go, but we've tried to convince him that its home for us.

I'll be leaving this journal and some of its pages in the work we turn over to Bookman today. We'll take a good bit of the paper, so look for signs of us along the road. We'll wrap our journal in bits of leather and stack them under a pyramid of eight rocks.

Good luck. Hope you find us.

P.S. Bring water and weaponry that doesn't rely on ammunition. Not sure how much you can trade, but ammo is expensive here. Maybe it will be cheaper in Pitt. Maybe home is in Pitt..

"To be honest, I didn't notice that they had. I was kept busy with two classes for the kids each day since they left."

"Now," He said briskly. "What you need to do is take these parcels of paper to Denmark's booth. Sell them for 20 credits apiece and you'll have to use Denmark's credit scanner, I don't use one. You'll get a percentage of each parcel you sell over five and you'll have to sell at least five to earn yourself a decent wage today."

Checking the basket that he'd loaded for you, you saw that the 'parcels' were five sheets of parchment tied together with string. You guessed that there were about twenty parcels within the basket.

Upon arriving in the strange 'Ol Detroit' Dave, Liam and Professor Stevens had been drafted by 'Bookman' to help him with an unspecified task. After following him into his boarded up brick work place, they come across a journal from someone from their time, a Susan, discussing the work of other hunters, mostly Emma and Doug. She seems very worried about getting home and chronicles her experiences. You have only read a few pages before you deduce that she has traveled to Pitt in search of a way home. Bookman has finished explaining how to go about selling his wares in the market and has inquired if you have any questions. Apparently your pay is tied into how many parcels of parchment you can sell. The Professor looked at Liam. "I guess we'd better go sell some parchment." Liam nods. "Alright. Just tell us where to go."

"The Market place." Bookman repeats. "Go to Denmark, he'll let you use his credit machine, as I don't have one. He'll be the third booth in, selling survival gear. Likely can convince him to buy some for his sons map work."

"Oh, before you go-" He pulls out a strip of parchement with some scratch marks on it. "Give this to Denmark so he can give you credit after you're done."

"Third booth in. Got it." Liam takes the strip of parchment.

He heads to the Market.

Approaching the market place, the noise level increases signifignantly. You can hear queries over a ware's price as well as haggling an acceptable barter. Glancing around for 'Denmark' you spot the booth that Bookman described- a patched violet table cloth atop of which various survival gear is set upon. You spot canteens with canvas carrying bags, battered binoculars and spot a prospective buyer testing a compass. The promised 'card reader' sets in front of a man in his middling fifties who was tan and trim, watching his prospective buyers with a keen eye. On either side of Denmark's booth are a man and woman selling complementary items. The woman is selling hand made clothing, blankets and sleeping rolls. The man is selling 'tent ups' and 'hard rollers' which appear to be reinforced tents and rolling hatch back trailers that in your time were likely attached to an RV. You hear the man encouraging how they were much safer for sleeping in the wilds than the cloth tents.

"Good afternoon" Samuel greeted the mid-age man on the booth. "Denmark I presume? We were sent by Bookman to sell some parchment for him..."

"OH, set up on the end, there." He points to a cleared section of his table, about two feet. "Did he send you with a pay slip?"

"Yes he did." said Liam as he showed the man the slip of parchment Bookman gave him.

"Let me see what old Bookman is giving you as pay." The man accepts your slip of paper and studies it for a long minute, as though adding the scratch marks took thought. "You get 10 credits for each parchement you sell." he determined. "Not bad." He leaned over, studying your basket. "My son, Dimak, is a guide. People love to get thier own maps, around here. How much for a parcel?"

"We were advised to sell them for 20 credits a piece." The Professor informed the man.

"Fair 'nuff." The man reached into his pocket and drew out an aged looking bit of card. "Give me a parcel." He declared, running the bit of card through. With a beep, it deposited a tally sheet that he handed you. "For Bookman." He explained. "So, where are you from?

"We're from Salem." said Liam, even though there was a chance that the man had never heard of the place.

"Salem?" The man said slowly. "That one of those lil' trade ports to the south?"

Liam smiled. "Thank you, sir. So, what are these bad things that you hear about the north?"

"Well, mainly, the Moaning Woods." Denmark leans in, speaking quietly. "The last group that came in from there lost two of thier party to... things that got in your head. Made you leave the trail. Things in the woods, they eat you alive.

"Thanks for the warning." says Liam quietly. "How far north are these woods?"

"My son is a guide if you have a head to head that way, towards Pitt. The last group hired him." Denmark stated. "But they sit squat in the middle of here and any big city to the north. ABout two days travel from here."

"What can you tell us about Bookman's last group?" The Professor asked.

"Oh, they seemed a bit... odd." He chuckled. "Said they were hunters, but they were the most inept hunters I seen. No gear, asking us where everything was. The girl spent most her time writin', so she must have been the brains of the group. She had three men wit' her. Never the same man would come help her sell, though. Must have had some other work in the day, something that kept them out of sight. Hard workers though, they worked sentry after they did days in Bookman's booth. They hired my son to take them to Pitt.." His voice becomes somber.

"What happened after that?" The Professor pushed for more information.

"Well... things got weird." He confided. "One day out, two of the men vanish. The others say push on, they'll join up. And joining up after you split up on that rough trail? Doesn't happen." Denmark declares. "But sure enough, some mornings, they'd be there like they'd bedded down with them the night before- even if they hadn't. Like ... they vanished. And then could catch up faster than any man could. Any man that was right. Freaked Dimark."

Liam strokes his chin. "You're right that is weird. Did all of them vanish? Because we were hoping to meet up with them."

"Well, Susan would always stay. Susan and Doug, it was the others that used to dissapear... my son should be getting them through the Moaning Woods now. They're about two days to Pitt."

Seryna : Suddenly, you hear the sound of a bell. Denmark starts, staring towards the gate, fear etched on his face. He hurriedly gathers his gear, haphazardly scooping them into various packs. "The warning bell!" He hisses at you. "Pack up! Get inside! Something's *coming*." All around you, people are crying out in fear, racing along the open areas. Some flee into buildings. Others try doors, only to find that they have been lockd from inside. Those on the street panic, racing onwards. The bell sounds on, signalling some unseen terror.

"Raiders?" The Professor suggested to Liam, a note to worry in his voice. Screams of blood curdling terror now pierce the air. Glancing towards the gate, you stare as it shudders, as though some giant *thing* is forcing its way in. The sounds of rifles crack in the air. An odd, deep noise sounds. Almost like... chanting from outside the gate. Something is thrown over the gate. It hits with a wet smack, lolling through the streets before coming to rest.

Liam takes cover wherever he can find cover.

The Professor decides now is probably not a good time to investigate, joining Liam in taking cover.

In front of you, several shabbily dressed people run in panic. "Get behind the barricades!" Someone shouts, just out of sight. "Raiders! Raiders from the Wasteland!" "Hurry, boys!" Bookman grabs Liam's arm, hoisting him out of the doorway where he crouches. "You!" He releases Liam and grips the Professor's arm, aiding him in moving. Bookman is steering you into a large, brick building where you first met him. The building has fallen into decay, several of the windows have been boarded up.

"So, that's why they're boarded up." muttered Liam. "Hurry." The old man wheezes. "To the back room!" He turns as you enter the building, closing the front door. He fumbles at the door, pulling a heavy wooden plank arcoss the door into installed grooves. How often does this happen, that the door has a barricade built into it?

You discover the young man who had brought youto Bookman in the back room. With him is an older woman and a young child, thier faces white with fear. "The lights." Bookman chastises, coming up from behind you. The lights are extinguished. You sit in darkness, your own breathing the only immediate sound. Outside, another scream. A high pitched cry, similiar to a bird sounds. The sound is taken up, as though giant birds have surrounded the city. The ground shudders as something heavy tumbles. The bell ceases its tolling..

Wind tears into the building as the building is buffeted by sudden, strong winds. A sharp chirp is heard before light suddenly pierces into the dusty library. Turning, you see a large, grotesque beak pecking at the windows. Little rays of light pierce through each peck, creeping towards your hiding place. A rough voice, guttural, sounds by the window. You see a red eye press against the spaces in the window, searching. The eye is inhuman, predatory...

"Oh shit." whispers Liam. "It's trying to peck through the window."

With a start, the Professor spots that his leg is set outside of the doorway to the back room. Just as you make to move it, a ray of light falls across of it, highlighting it. "The Webero." The child whispers, frightened. "It's come to carry us off!"